LIBRARY 


TA.LES 


BUMBLE    LlFE, 


cromq-   j^  s 


OLD  ADAM 


BY    J^ERMIWilON    OF    THK  AUTHOR. 


PUBLISHED  BY 


PHILADELPHIA  CONFERENCE  TRACT  SOCIETY, 

AT  METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  BOOK  ROOMS, 
1018  AECH  STREET,  PHILADA. 


THE  reader  may  rest  assured  these  narratives  are 
substantially  true,  as  many  persons  now  living  in  the 
neighborhood  can  testify.  The  names  mentioned  are 
real  names,  both  of  persons  and  places.  Some  of  them, 
as  in  the  former  case,  have  arisen  from  my  connection 
with  the  Chapel  for  the  Destitute. 

I  am  surprised  and  thankful  for  the  reception  given 
to  the  first  eleven  Tales,  now  constituting  the  First 
Volume — nearly  half  a  million  of  which  have  been 
sold  in  a  few  months — and  the  urgent  request  of  many 
friends  that  I  would  furnish  them  with  more,  induces 
me  again  to  dip  into  my  diary,  where  many  more  yet 
remain. 

I  am  a  tradesman,  and  make  no  pretensions  to  liter- 
ary ability.  If  He  whom  I  desire  to  serve  condescends 
to  use  me  as  a  medium  of  good  to  others,  my  earnest 
wish  will  ,be  realized.  To  Him  my  prayer  has  been, 

"HOLD   THOU  MY  RIGHT  HAND." 

J.  ASHWORTH. 
Rochdale,  1866. 


ONE  of  our  Rochdale  doctors,  being  asked  by 
a  friend  if  some  of  his  doings  were  not  likely  to 
exclude  him  from  Heaven,  replied:1 

"  When  I  die,  I  will  take  with  me  an  old 
book  I  have,  which  is  full  of  debts  owing  to  me 
by  the  poor,  whom  I  have  never  distressed  for 
payment,  and  show  it  at  the  gates  of  Heaven  ; 
when  they  see  it  they  will  say,  '  Admit  him,  he 
is  a  decent  fellow.' 3 

This  shocking  expression  of  the  doctor's  re- 
minded me  of  one  of  my  neighbors,  who,  with 
several  others,  attended  our  village  shaving- 
shop  on  the  Sunday  morning,  to  talk  politics, 
read  the  newspaper,  and  rule  the  nation ;  his 
name  was  Adam  Schofield.  Adam,  like  the 
doctor,  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  type  of  many 
persons  found  in  almost  every  part  of  the  coun- 
try. He  believed  in  eating,  working,  sleeping, 
and  grumbling,  and  lived  as  if  these  were  all 
for  which  a  man  was  born.  Once  or  twice  in 
his  lifetime  he  went  to  Town  Meadows  Chapel, 
to  hear  Mr.  Stephens,  but  his  opinion  was,  that 
church  and  chapel- going  people  must  be  rather 
bad,  to  require  so  much  preaching  and  praying 
to  keep  them  right. 

After  finishing  his  day's  work,  Adam  often 
found  his  way  to  our  fireside,  to  have,  what  we 
called,  "  a  chat,"  with  my  father.  One  even- 


2  OLD   ADAM. 

ing,  addressing  my  mother,  he  said,  "  Do  you 
not  think  a  man  may  get  to  Heaven  without 
going  to  either  church  or  chapel  ?" 

"  I  do  not  think  that  any  person  wishing  to 
go  to  Heaven  would  ask  such  a  question.  They 
will  be  very  glad  to  go  to  either  church  or 
chapel,  if  it  would  help  them  one  step  on  the 
way,"  replied  my  mother. 

Adam  was  silent  a  few  minutes,  and  then  said, 
"  Well,  I  think  God  takes  the  average  of  men's 
actions,  and  I  shall  have  as  many  good  deeds  to 
show  as  will  get  me  out  at  the  right  end." 

This  was  Adam's  estimation  of  himself 
though  he  then  confessed  that  he  sometimes  got 
drunk,  and,  when  in  a  passion,  could  swear  a 
round  oath,  and  sometimes  tell  an  untruth. 

For  many  years  after  I  had  left.the  village,  I 
often  thought  about  Adam,  for  ever  since  I 
understood  the  Bible's  teachings  of  how  a  sinner 
must  be  saved,  I  had  regarded  him  as  far  from 
the  kingdom. 

I,  somehow,  became  so  concerned  about  him, 
that  I  set  out  purposely  to  pay  him  a  visit, 
though  his  house  was  two  miles  from  mine. 
He  was  seated  by  the  fire,  and  alone.  He 
seemed  glad  to  see  me,  and  requested  I  would 
take  a  seat,  and  asked  if  "  there  was  aught 
fresh  or  new  ?" 

I  began  to  tell  him  what  my  errand  was — 


OLD   ADAM.  3 

how  concerned  I  had  felt  about  his  soul — and 
how  I  had  often  heard  him  talk  in  a  way  that 
convinced  me  he  was  not  a  Christian,  and,  hav- 
ing much  respect  for  him  for  my  father's  sake, 
had  come  all  the  way  expressly  to  see  and 
converse  with  him  about  his  salvation. 

For  several  minutes  Adam  looked  into  the 
fire  without  speaking,  at  last  he  said — 

"  I  think,  John,  you  might  have  found  hun- 
dreds, between  here  and  your  house,  a  deal 
worse  than  I  am  I  don't  know  why  you 
should  be  so  concerned  about  me:  I  think  I  am 
as  good  as  many  that  pretend  to  be  better. " 

"  That  is  what  I  expected  and  feared  you 
would  say,  Adam,  and  it  is  what  makes  me  so 
concerned  about  you.  If  you  felt  yourself  a 
sinner,  you  would  seek  for  a  Saviour;  but  so 
long  as  you  think  you  are  not  a  sinner,  there  is 
no  hope  for  you.  You  are  very  like  several  per- 
sons that  I  have  seen  and  heard  of,  and  if  you 
will  allow  me,  I  will  tell  you  about  some  of 
them,  Adam." 

"If  it  will  not  take  long  you  can  go  on,"  he 
replied. 

Well,  I  will  give  you  the  case  of  an  old  man : 

One  Sunday,  as  I  was  going  to  Shaw,  near 
Oldham,  on  ascending  the  rising  ground  leading 
from  Buersil  to  High  Crompton,  I  saw  him 
slowly  toiling  up  the  road.  On  overtaking 

95 


OLD   ADAM. 


him,  and  after  the  usual  observations  about  the 
weather,  I  fell  into  the  old  man's  speed,  observ- 
ing— "I  can  walk  up  this  brow  much  better 
\hari  you,  my  old  friend." 

"  Wait  until  you  are  seventy-two  years  of  age, 
and  then  you  see  what  you  can  do,"  he  replied. 

"How  much  further  have  you  to  go  ?" 

"Not  far.  I  am  coming  from  church,  but  it 
is  getting  a  long  way  for  me  to  go  now,  and  I 
think  I  shall  not  be  able  to  go  much  longer." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  you  have  been  to 
church  this  morning,  and  that  you  are  prepar- 
ing for  your  latter  end,  for  I  never  see  an  old 
man,  or  an  old  woman,  but  I  think  they  are  not 
far  from  either  Heaven  or  hell." 

"Well,  as  for  that,  T  think  I  shall  stand  as 
good  a  chance  as  most  folk,  for  I've  attended 
church,  at  times,  for  forty  years,  always  paid 
my  way,  and  I  don't  know  that  I've  done  ony- 
bodv  ony  harm,  what  more  done  yo'  want?" 

''Then,  during  forty  years,  every  time  you 
have  attended  church,  you  have  told  a  lie,  or 
missed  that  part  in  your  prayer-book  which  says, 
'We  have  done  the  things  we  ought  not  to  have 
done,  and  left  undone  the  things  which  we 
ought  to  have  done  .....  Lord  have  mercy 
upon  us,  miserable  sinners,'  because  you  have 
just  made  it  out  that  you  are  no  sinner,  but  a 
decent  sort  of  a  man?" 


OLD   ADAM.  0 

"I  cannot  walk  up  this  hill  so  fast,  you  had 
better  go  on  without  me,"  he  said,  leaning  his 
arm  on  a  gate  to  rest.  I,  too,  leaned  on  the 
gate,  and  looking  him  in  the  face,  said — "  My 
dear  old  brother,  I  know  why  you  want  me  to 
leave  you,  but  I  dare  not  until  I  have  warned 
you  of  your  danger.  The  Bible  says  all  have 
sinned,  and  if  we  say  we  have  no  sin  we  deceive 
ourselves,  and  unless  we  repent  we  shall  be  lost 
forever!  A  man  must  be  born  again  or  he  can 
never  enter  Heaven.  And  here  you  are,  an  old 
man  of  seventy-two  years  of  age,  attending  the 
church,  at  times,  for  forty  years,  and  yet  you 
are  as  blind  as  a  bat,  and  as  surely  going  to  hell 
as  you  lean  upon  that  gate.  The  moment  you 
spoke  of  your  goodness,  you  made  me  miser- 
able, for  I  then  knew  that  you  are  what  the 
Bible  calls  a  Pharisee,  and  Pharisees  never  go 
to  Heaven.  The  Lord  have  mercy  upon  you, 
for  you  are  'a  miserable  sinner.' ' 

During  my  short  speech  the  old  man  seemed 
amazed  and  restless,  and  begged  I  would  leave 
him,  for  I  had  made  him  very  uneasy.  I  did 
as  he  requested ;  but  before  leaving  I  again 
told  him,  as  kindly  as  I  could,  that  he  was  a 
sinner,  and  unless  he  repented  he  would  never 
see  Heaven.  That  is  one  case,  Adam. 

Another  case,  somewhat  similar  to  this,  oc- 
curred about  the  same  time.  I  was  sent  for  to  see 


6  OLD   ADAM. 

one  of  my  neighbors.  When  I  went  up  stairs  he 
was  propped  up  in  bed,  and  looking  very  poorly. 

"I  am  glad  you  are  come,  Mr.  Ash  worth, 
for  I  wanted  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you;  but 
you  know  I  have  not  been  as  bad  as  some." 

"No,  John,"  said  his  wife,  "there  are  thou- 
sands worse  than  you  are." 

"I  have  never  been  much  of  a  swearer," 
continued  the  man. 

"No,  John,"  continued  his  wife,  "nobody  can 
say  that  about  you." 

"I  have  not  been  a  drunkard;  I  have  been 
drunk,  but  not  as  often  as  some." 

"No,  John,"  said  his  wife,  "you  have  been 
anything  but  a  drunkard,  as  some  are." 

"I  have  had  thousands  of  pounds  passed 
through  my  hands  belonging  to  others,  but  have 
always  been  honest." 

"Yes,  John,  you  have  always  been  honest  to 
the  penny." 

"I  have  sometimes  gone  to  church,"  contin- 
ued the  man,  "or  I  have  sat  in  the  house  and 
read,  for  I  never  could  bear  to  see  people 
wickedly  spending  the  Sabbath." 

"Yes,  John,"  again  said  his  wife,  "you  have 
stopped  at  home  many  a  time,  and  read  the 
newspaper,  or  a  book  for  me,  instead  of  going 
out  when  any  of  your  companions  have  called." 

During   the  whole  of  these  observations   I 

38 


OLD   ADAM.  7 

had  not  spoken  one  word.  But  when  they  had 
finished  I  quietly  took  up  my  hat,  and  said, 
"Well,  I  will  go  home,  there  is  no  need  for  me 
here ;  Christ  did  not  die  for  you." 

"  Christ  did  not  die  for  me !     How  so  ?" 

"  I  mean  what  I  say.  Jesus  Christ  came 
into  the  world  to  save  sinners  only,  but,  accord- 
ing to  the  statements  of  you  and  your  wife, 
you  are  no  sinner,  but  a  very  good  man.  Christ 
came  not  to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners  to 
repentance ;  and  as  you  make  it  out,  and  your 
wife  confirms  it,  that  you  are  a  very  righteous 
man,  then  Christ  cannot  have  died  for  you,  so 
I  must  bid  you  a  good  day,  for  I  can  be  of  no 
'use  if  1  remain." 

"  Do  not  go,  do  not  go,  for  I  have  been  very  mis- 
erable for  several  days,  and  I  want  something." 

"Yes,  John,  you  want  those  rotten  props 
knocked  down,  and  if  they  are  not  knocked  down 
you  will  as  surely  be  lost  as  you  are  in  that  bed." 

"  Well,  what  must  I  do  ?  I  am  willing  that 
you  should  tell  me,  for  I  cannot  bear  to  think 
that  Christ  did  not  die  for  me." 

"  Well,  John,  just  answer  me  a  few  questions. 
Have  you  ever  taken  God's  name  in  vain  ?" 

"  Yes,  many  times,  many  times." 

"  Then  the  Lord  declares  that  swearers  cannot 
entei*  Heaven.  Have  you  ever  been  drunk  ?  I 
think  you  have." 


8  OLD   ADAM. 

"  Yes,  I  have,  many  a  time." 

"  Then  the  Lord  declares  that  no  drunkard 
shall  enter  Heaven.  Have  you  not  had  wicked 
thoughts,  such  as  lust,  envy,  malice,  hatred,  or 
revenge  ?" 

"Yes,  thousands  of  times." 

"  Well,  then,  the  Bible  tells  us  that  only  the 
pure  in  heart  shall  see  God.  So,  you  see,  all 
along  you  have  been  deceiving  yourself,  and 
depending  on  your  good  works.  You  admit  you 
have  broken  the  law,  and,  unless  you  get 
forgiveness  through  Christ,  you  perish."  That 
is  another  case. 

"  You  knew  old  James  Nuttall,  Adam,  did 
you  not  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  knew  old  James,"  he  replied. 

"Well,  good  old  James,  who  for  many  years 
went  about  visiting  the  sick  and  relieving  the 
poor,  once  had  two  shillings  given  to  him  to 
take  to  a  sick  dress-maker.  On  knocking  at  the 
door  a  feeble  voice  called  out,  '  Come  in/  Old 
James  walked  in,  and  in  one  corner  of  a  large 
room  of  a  very  clean  house,  he  found  the  sick 
iress-maker  confined  to  bed.  He  told  her  he 
had  got  two  shillings,  sent  by  a  friend  for  her. 
She  soon  stopped  him  by  saying — 

"Old  man,  it  is  not  me  you  are  seeking,  it  is 
some  one  else,  so  you  had  better  take  it  to  the 
right  place." 

40 


OLD   ADAM.  9 

"  The  old  man  thinking  he  was  right,  ask<3d 
her  if  she  was  a  dress-maker,  and  if  there  was 
any  other  person  in  the  neighborhood  of  that 
name." 

"  Yes,  I  am  a  dress-maker,  and  the  only  per- 
son in  the  neighborhood  of  that  name." 

"Then  it  is  for  you,  and  I  will  leave  it  on 
the  mantle-piece;  and  I  always  like  to  pray 
both  with  sick  people  and  healthy  ones,  if  they 
will  let  me." 

While  old  James  was  sa3^ng  this,  he  took 
off  his  hat,  and  laid  it  on  a  chair.  He  reared 
his  stout  walking-stick  in  a  corner,  near  the 
sick  woman's  head,  and,  kneeling  down,  prayed 
that  the  Lord  would  bless  the  sick  and  poor, 
that  He  would  pardon  the  woman  all  her  sins, 
and  make  her  happy.  While  he  was  praying, 
the  woman  took  hold  of  the  stout  walking-stick, 
and  lifted  it  up,  intending  to  bring  it  down  on 
his  smooth,  shining,  bald  head  with  a  crash, 
for  daring  to  call  her  a  sinner ;  but  her  hand 
was  withheld  by  the  old  man's  God,  and  the 
self-righteous  dress- maker  was,  probably,  saved 
from  being  a  murderer.  When  he  arose  from 
his  knees,  she  began  to  abuse  him,  saying, 
"Who  told  you  that  I  was  a  sinner.  I  am  as 
good  as  either  you  or  them,  and  I  do  not  thank 
you  for  either  your  prayer  or  your  money.  Me 
i,  sinner,  indeed!  Where  you  find  one  better 


10  OLD   ADAM. 

you  will  find  a  thousand  worse,  and  I  hope  you 
will  not  call  here  again." 

Old  James,  looking  at  the  woman  with  sur- 
prise and  sorrow,  replied:  "  The  money  was  giv- 
en to  me  for  you,  and  I  will  leave  it;  and  I  will 
pray  for  you  when  I  get  home,  that  the  Lord 
will  open  your  blind  eyes,  and  soften  your 
hard  heart,  for  you  nee  1  both,  I  am  sure." 

This  woman  recovered  from  her  sickness, 
and  became  a  member  at  Hope  Chapel;  but  she 
told  a  different  tale  about  her  goodness  the  day 
she  was  admitted  into  the  church." 

One  more  case,  Adam,  and  then  I  have  done. 

One  evening,  a  rough  character  came  to  my 
house,  urgently  requesting  that  I  would  go  with 
him  to  see  an  old  woman,  who  was  very  poorly.  I 
at  once  went,  and,  on  entering  the  house,  found 
her  sitting  up  in  bed  moaning,  and  very  restless. 

"You  have  sent  for  me  to  come  and  see  you," 
I  observed  to  the  old  woman. 

"Nay,  I  have  not,  nor  did  I  want  you.  I  am 
not  going  to  die,  I  have  only  got  the  colic,  and 
I  shall  soon  be  better;  I  will  have  none  of  your 
talk,  nor  your  prayer,"  said  the  old  woman. 

"Old  Mary,  you  should  not  talk  that  way  to 
Mr.  Ashworth,  he  comes  for  your  good,"  said 
the  man  who  had  fetched  me. 

"Hold  thee  thy  noise,  thou  scamp;  T  am  as 
good  as  thee,  thou  devil,  or  as  anybody  in  this 


OLD   ADAM.  11 

street,  or  the  next  street  to  it.  I  will  send  for 
some  one  to  pray  with  me  when  I  am  going  to 
die,  and  not  till  then;  half  an  hour  will  do  for 
that." 

The  old  woman  was  soon  better,  and  walk- 
ing about  as  usual.  But  one  night,  when  she 
had  got  to  the  top  of  the  stairs,  she  lost  her 
balance';  there  was  one  wild  scream,  and  a  crash, 
and  she  lay  dead  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs. 
A  regard  for  the  feelings  of  her  son  and  daugh* 
ter,  prevents  me  giving  the  name. 

After  giving  the  above  cases,  I  waited  to  heap 
what  Adam  would  say,  but  he  made  no  reply. 
When  on  the  point  of  leaving,  I  felt  very 
nervous,  and  thought,  shall  I  ask  Adam  to  let 
me  pray  with  him,  or  would  it  be  more  prudent 
to  leave  him  without  doing  so?  I  asked  him, 
but  his  reply  was — 

"No,  John,  what  little  I  do  in  that  line,  1 
can  do  for  myself." 

"Will  you  have  this  little  book,  then?  It  ia 
good  print,  and  I  think  you  will  find  some- 
thing that  may  interest  you." 

"Well,  yes,  you  may  leave  the  book,  and  I 
can  see  what  it  is  about." 

I  laid  the  little  book,  called  "Come  to  Jesus," 
on  the  table,  bidding  Adam  good  night,  and  for 
many  weeks  saw  no  more  of  him.  Having  to 
pass  through  the  village,  however,  on  some 


12  OLD  ADAM. 

business  matters,  I  again  called  and  found  him 
as  before,  alone.  On  the  table  near  him  lay  the 
little  book,  but  backed  afresh  with  some  blue 
sugar  paper.  The  moment  I  saw  the  book  had 
been  covered  afresh,  I  felt  convinced  that  there 
was  a  change  somewhere  else  beside  the  book 
back.  "So  you  see  I  have  called  again,  Adam. 
How  are  you  getting  on  since  I  last  saw  you?" 
He  pointed  to  the  chair,  requested  me  to  sit 
down,  and  at  once  began  to  tell  me  that  he  had 
long  wanted  to  see  me,  for  he  had  spent  some 
very  miserable  hours  since  I  last  called,  and  had 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  should  be  lost. 

"I  am  glad  such  is  the  case,  Adam.  Now  I 
have  hope  concerning  you;  for  Jesus  Christ 
came  to  seek  and  save  that  which  was  lost." 

"So  this  little  book  says.  There  is  no  non- 
sense about  this  book;  it  is  all  out  of  the  Bible. 
I  have  been  like  the  man  you  mentioned,  all  my 
life  resting  on  rotten  props,  but  this  book  knocks 
them  all  down,  and  I  am  almost  in  despair." 

I  drew  my  chair  nearer  to  where  Adam  sat, 
and,  laying  my  hand  on  his  knee,  said ~-" Do 
you  now  think  that  you  are  better  than  others, 
and  that  your  good  deeds  will  outweigh  your 
bad  ones  ?  " 

"Oh,  dear,  no,  I  feel  ashamed  that  ever  J 
talked  that  way,  to  yon  or  any  one  else." 

"  Do  you  still  think  there  is  too  much  preach 


OLD   ADAM.  13 

ing,  praying,  and  Bible  reading,  as  you  once 
did?  " 

"Oh  dear,  no,  I  have  read  the  Bible  more,  and, 
in  my  way,  prayed  more  the  last  two  months 
than  I  have  done  for  twenty  years  before." 

"Do  you  now  think  you  are  a  sinner,  Adam?" 

"I  am  sure  I  am,  and  a  great  sinner.  What 
ever  shall  1  do?" 

"Do  you  feel  you  are  a  sinner?  for  there  is  a 
vast  difference  between  merely  believing  we  are 
sinners  and  feeling  we  are  sinners." 

"Yes,  I  feel  that  I  am,  and  feel  it  so  keen 
that  it  sometimes  makes  me  sweat." 

"Well,  do  you  feel  that  Christ  can  save  you? ' 

"Why,  He  has  saved  millions,  and  He" — 

Here  Adam  burst  into  tears,  in  which  I 
could  not  help  but  join. 

"Do  you  believe  that  He  will  save  you, 
Adam  ?  " 

"I  hope  He  will,"  was  his  reply,  still  weeping. 

"Just  one  step  more,  Adam.  Do  you  believe 
Christ  will  save  you  now,  just  now  ?  For  you 
know  if  ever  a  man's  sins  are  forgiven,  there  is 
-i  moment  when  forgiveness  takes  place,  and 
when  that  moment  comes,  he  can  say,  '0, 
Lord,  I  will  praise  Thee^  though  Thou  wast 
mgry  with  me,  thine  anger  is  turned  away, 
and  Thou  comfortedst  me.' ' 

Adam  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  began 

46 


14  OLD  ADAM. 

sobbing  like  a  child.  I  was  deeply  moved,  and, 
for  some  time,  we  were  both  silent.  At  length 
Adam  said :  "  What  must  I  do !  what  must  I 
do !  I  believe  Christ  died  for  sinners,  and  that 
he  can  save  sinners,  and  does  save  sinners,  and 
that  he  will  perhaps  save  me,  but  I  do  not 
think  that  he  will  save  me  yet." 

"  Then,  Adam,  you  will  never  be  saved  until 
you  believe  that  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  will 
save  you,  and  with  a  present  salvation.  The 
promise,  'Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved,'  does  not  mean  believe 
to-morrow,  and  be  saved  to-morrow,  but  now. 
'Now  is  the  accepted  time,  now  is  the  day  of 
salvation.'  It  is  one  of  the  Devil's  best  strata- 
gems, to  make  penitent  sinners  believe  that 
Christ  will  not  save  them  now.  But,  Adam, 
there  areno  promises  of  salvation  for  to- morrow." 

Adam  still  held  down  his  head,  and  seemed 
in  great  trouble.  When  I  rose  to  go  he  begged 
I  would  pray  with  him,  and  ask  God  to  have 
mercy  upon  him.  We  prayed  together,  and  not 
without  hope  that  God  heard  our  prayer.  I 
then  shook  hands  with  him,  and,  at  his  request, 
I  promised  to  call  again  soon,  thankful  in  my 
heart  that  the  once  self-righteous  Pharisee  was 
now  the  humble  penitent,  pleading  for  mercy. 

Adam  still  sought  pardon,  still  studied  the 
Bible  and  read  the  little  book  called  -'Come  to 


OLD  ADAM.  15 

Jesus,"  attended  the  house  of  God  regularly, 
and  the  weekday  prayer  meeetings  held  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  before  I  saw  him  again  he 
was  a  sinner  saved  by  grace,  and  a  very  happy 
child  of  God.  His  regular  attendance  at  the 
means  of  grace,  and  his  consistent  Christian  life 
were  strong  evidence  that  the  change  was  real. 
Speaking  with  him  on  one  occasion  about  his 
former  self-righteous  views,  and  the  difference 
betwixt  those  days  and  the  time  he  was  seeking 
pardon  and  mercy,  he  exclaimed — 

"  When  I  saw  myself,  what  I  was  and  what  I 
had  been,  on  the  day  I  obtained  mercy,  I  be- 
lieved and,  felt  that  if  my  sins  of  heart  and 
life  had  been  spread  out,  they  were  enough  to 
damn  all  the  people  in  Rochdale." 

The  evidence  of  saving  faith  is  a  life  of  holi- 
ness and  Adam  endeavored  to  live  that  life;  he 
was  indeed  a  brand  plucked  from  the  burning, 
and  his  sun  was  going  down  in  a  clear  sky.  He 
loved  his  Bible,  loved  to  talk  with  religious  peo- 
ple, and  loved  the  house  of  God,  and  with  child- 
like simplicity,  spoke  of  his  entire  dependence 
on  Christ  as  the  only  foundation  of  his  hope. 

One  fine  Sabbath  morning  I  was  going  to  my 
engagements,  and  had  to  pass  the  house  at  Cut- 
gate  where  Adam  still  resided.  My  old  friend 
Niff  was  looking  out  for  me,  for  he  was  anxious 
I  should  call  to  see  Adam,  who  was  now  very 


16  OLD   ADAM. 

poorly.  On  entering  his  poor,  but  clean  cottage, 
I  was  very  glad  to  find  I  was  not  too  late,  for 
on  approaching  his  bed,  he  still  knew  me,  and 
our  hands  were  soon  locked  together.  With  a 
feeble  whisper,  and  with  great  effort,  he  spoke 
of  his  great  joy  and  peace,  and  thanked  me 
that  I  had  ever  come  to  tell  him  of  his  danger, 
saying,  "It  was  the  best  day's  work  you  ever 
did.  Had  I  remained  a  self-righteous  Pharisee 
I  should  have  been  lost,  but  now,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  and  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.  I  am  just  en- 
tering Heaven." 

On  returning  in  the  evening,  I  again  called  to 
see  my  dying  friend,  but  on  entering  the  house 
found  the  spirit  had  winged  its  way  into  the  in- 
visible world.  I  laid  my  hand  on  his  now  cold 
forehead,  and,  while  my  breast  was  heaving 
with  emotion  and  my  eyes  raining  down  tears, 
I  thanked  God  for  His  goodness  and  mercy  in 
opening  the  eyes  of  the  poor  old  man,  and 
blessing  him  with  saving  grace. 

That  day  Adam  went  to  'There  there  are 
millions  of  converted  publicans  and  sinners,  but 
where  there  is  not  one  self-righteous  person,  for 
there  is  no  Pharisee  in  Heaven,  nor  evej  will  be 
while  Heaven  is  Heaven;  but  among  the  mil- 
lions of  sinners  saved  by  grace  around  th? 
throne  of  God  will  now  be  found  the  soul  of 
my  happy  friend,  OLD  ADAM. 


^.SOUTHERN  REGIONAL 


A    000  605  228    6 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


STKAEE  TALES  FROM  HUMBLE  IM 

BY  JOHN   ASHWORTH. 


Fine  Edition,  Four  Series,  cloth,  limp.  The  First  and  Second, 
bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  boards,  or  extra  cloth,  gilt 
edges,  with  steel  portrait  of  the  Author ;  also  Third  and 
Fourth  in  one  volume,  gilt  edges. 

rhes»  remarkable  Tales  are  still  kept  as  Tracts,  of  which 
nearly  Three  Millions  have  already  been  sold. 


FIRST 

I.  Mary;  a  Tale  of  Sorrow. 
B.  The  Dark  Hour.  [Men. 

I.  A  Wonder ;  or,    The  Two  Old 
4.  Sanderson  and  Little  Alice. 
6.  Wilkins.  [and  II. 

6  &  7.  Th«  Dark  Night.      Parts  I. 


SERIES. 

8.  Joseph ;  or,  The  Silent  Corner, 

9.  My  Mother. 

10.  Niff  and  his  Dogs. 

11.  My  New  Friends. 

12.  My  New  Friends. 

13.  My  New  Friends. 


Parti. 
Part  II. 
Part  III. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


H.  Mothers.  [Prayer. 

15.  Twenty  Pounds ;  or,  The  Little 

16.  All  is  Well. 

17.  My  Uncle;  or,  Johnny's  Box. 

18.  Old  Adam. 

19.  Ellen  Williams. 


20.  Trials. 

21.  Answered  at  Last. 

22.  Priscilla.  [Step. 

23.  Julia ;  or,    The   First    Wrong 

24.  No  Cotton. 

25.  My  Young  Ragged  Friends. 


THIRD  SERIES. 


K  The  Lost  Curl. 
Z7.  Emmott. 

28.  The  Widow. 

29.  Sarah ;  or,  "  I  Will  have  Him ! ' 

30.  My  Sick  Friends.    Part  I. 
81.  My  Sick  Friends.    Part  II. 


32.  George. 

33.  James  Burrows. 

34.  John  and  Mary. 

35.  A  Sad  Story. 

36.  Lucy's  Legacy. 

37.  Edmund. 


FOURTH  SERIES. 


88.  The  Golden  Wedding. 

39.  William  the  Tutor. 

40.  Fathers. 

tl.  Little  Susan. 
42.  Old  Matthew. 
13.  Old  Abo. 


44.  Milly- 

45.  The  Fog  Bell. 

46.  Mrs.  Bowden. 

47.  Happy  Ned. 

48.  Harry. 

49.  A  Dancer. 


WALKS    IN    CANAAN. 

By  same  Author.    304  pages,  with  7  full-page  illustrations.    Cloth,  or 
extra  cloth,  gilt  edges. 


»*$"  Mr.  Ashworth's  Tales  and  Books  are  above  my  praise ;  they  are 
circulated  I  believe,  not  by  thousands,  but  by  millions,  and  the  result 
is,  that  the  name  of  John  Ashworth  is  a  Household  Word,  not  only  in 
the  lordly  halls,  but  in  the  lowly  homes  of  England." — Dr.  Outhrie. 


